The journey itself, is freedom
by Ainzfern
27
"...and with this morning's quite sudden upturn in, uhm, pre-purchased passes to the museum's latest exhibition I do feel, Sir Laron, Sir, that it might be appropriate to extend the end date of the showing for another two weeks."
Seated behind what was once Sir Tahna Lam's beautiful antique desk, Sir Laron Tak, head of the Tanagura Syndicate's Department of Arts and Antiquities, curled the elegant fingers of one hand under his chin and regarded Quinn with a thoughtful expression on his flawless patrician face. He ran a brief calculation in his formidable mind before replying to his curator's recommendation. "Your figures indicate that current pre-purchase income has increased by nearly thirty percent," he nodded down at the hard copy accounting report that Quinn had printed off for him, "so even taking into account the additional expenditure in leasing fees to the Elldaren Prime gallery to retain the pieces; that will still give us, well... close to eighty thousand, clearing expenses, by my reckoning."
Quinn consulted his notes, his eyebrows rising as he nodded, "Uh... yes, Sir Laron. Yes it will."
Laron tapped a quick staccato on the blotter with his fingertips before smiling slightly. "Do it. I shall contact Professor Lamberton at the Elldaren museum to arrange the extension if you, Quinn, will see to the additional public notices and advertising."
"My pleasure, Sir Laron," Quinn shuffled his piles of paper back into order.
"I'll want to see the flyer before you send it to printing and distribution, however." Laron sat back, settling in comfortably in the deep leather chair.
"Of course, Sir Laron."
"Is that all we needed to address this morning?" the Sapphire asked, gesturing at Quinn's papers.
"Uh..." Quinn shuffled a few more items into new spots in the stack, before laying a single form down on the desktop in front of the Sapphire, "actually... yes, Sir Laron. I believe it is."
Laron looked at him, his eyes warm for all that his expression was characteristically composed. He had to admit, Tahna had been quite right about the man. Peculiar person though he might be, there was more to him than initially met the eye. Quinn was clever, loyal to his post, very well organized and he knew his job and his finicky target market very well indeed. Plus, Laron felt his smile widen a touch as the next thought crossed his mind; the diminutive curator had immediately taken a shine to Esra, treating him from the very start with sincere respect and genuine warmth. This, naturally, had endeared Quinn to his new Sapphire superior like nothing else ever could.
Yes... yes, Laron really could see why Tahna had been willing to overlook the nervous little man's oddities.
"Then I have a final question for you, if you will indulge me." The Elite picked up his heavy Platinum plated pen and deftly signed Quinn's prepared requisition request for advertising budget allocation, pushing the form back across the desk to him.
Quinn straightened, looking earnestly at the Elite. "Ah. Well, I will do my best – uhm, Sir Laron, Sir."
"In your opinion," Laron's expression grew openly amused, even a touch wry, "is it really resurging interest in the Elldaren exhibit that can account for the sudden increase... or do you think that the greater number of our clientele are merely curious to catch a glimpse of the new Sapphire who is running the place now?"
Quinn made an odd choking sound from low in his pigeon chest. "Er... well, uhm...," he shrugged helplessly and pulled an apologetic face. "Quite possibly there is an element of your latter suggestion in it, erm... Sir Laron, but," Quinn's pinched little face brightened suddenly, "as Sir Tahna once said to me – 'who cares why they come, just so long as they do?'"
Laron chuckled, nodding his agreement. "Mmm. Well, there is much in favor of that sentiment, certainly."
"Erm... yes, Sir."
"Well, if that is all," Laron sat forward again, reaching for his appointment diary in a business-like manner, "I suggest that we both get back to work," he arched a dark brow in Quinn's direction. "I did promise Esra that I would head home early today and I would not wish to disappoint him."
Quinn's expression became quite transparently fond and a rare grin touched his face. "Of course, Sir Laron." He hesitated a moment before pulling a deep breath, his hands fluttering anxiously as he continued. "Uh, Sir? Has, uhm, Mr. Esra had any further luck with the staff in his workplace?" he flushed uncomfortably, with the air of a man who knows he has difficult task to do, but is determined to do it anyway. "Erm... what I mean is – are they still treating him, well... you know...?"
Laron felt his expression tighten. "Are they still treating him like a second-class citizen, you mean?"
Quinn nodded miserably at him.
"Mentioned it to you, did he?" Laron asked, already knowing the answer.
"Well, yes. Yes he did, Sir," Quinn shrugged, a certain firm glint entering his eye. "And, well... I suppose it resonated because I've had my own troubles in the past... uhm... not actually unlike what Mr. Esra is facing."
Laron nodded slowly, a small smile forming. "Yes, Sir Tahna did tell me as much." His smile faded, the tiniest touch of frustration becoming evident. "I regret that I must tell you, yes, Esra is still encountering the same lack of courtesy. However... now that my professional situation has improved to a most acceptable standard, I do intend to expend some specific energies coaching Esra in ways to overcome such nonsense."
Quinn smiled again. "Oh. Well, uhm... that is good to hear, Sir Laron, Sir. And I am sure you'll be able to help him there."
"If he even needs it by then," Laron chuckled softly. "I should imagine that you'll be quite pleased to know Esra is starting to handle things in a more forthright a manner." His smile grew wry. "Possibly the influence of a couple of new mongrel friends there, I think."
"Ah. Well. That's very pleasing, then," Quinn gathered up his bits and pieces. "Can I get you a cup of tea?"
Shaking his head, Laron chuckled again at the sudden segue. "Not at this moment, no."
"Uhm... Very good, Sir Laron." With that, Quinn bowed politely and then turned and made his way out of the office.
Looking back down at his diary, Laron noted that he had blocked out time to review the monthly sub-department expenses reports from the art galleries in both Eos Central and outer Midas. Once more picking up his pen, he bent his cobalt haired head to his work, swiftly auditing the current statements against previous expenditure and marking any glaring inconsistencies for further redress.
After several minutes of industrial silence he was a little surprised to hear Quinn's diffident clearing of the throat as the curator quietly entered Laron's office once more, his hands clasped before him.
"Yes, Quinn?" Noting his visibly increased nervousness, Laron set his pen down and gave the man due attention. "Is something amiss?"
"Not, erm... as such, Sir Laron," Quinn swallowed hard and glanced back over one shoulder where, tall and beautiful, esoteric and magnificently aloof of appearance, Iason Mink was gracefully stepping past the little man and into the office.
"Uh... his Excellency, Sir Iason, is here to see you, Sir Laron," Quinn announced somewhat lamely, clearly aware that he'd missed his mark, but determined to see the proper protocols observed in any case.
In a move that both sincerely startled Laron and immediately made Iason Mink just that bit more accessible on a personal level, the Syndicate leader actually laid a gentle hand briefly upon Quinn's thin shoulder as he passed. "Thank you, Quinn," he murmured in his deep velvet voice, "I believe that I shall be fine from here."
Darting a grateful look up at him, Quinn nodded and backed out of the room.
"Please..." Iason raised one hand at Laron as he approached the Sapphire's desk. "That is not necessary."
Already half risen to his feet, Laron stilled and then resumed his chair even as Iason gracefully folded his elegant limbs into one of the seats across from Laron's desk.
"My thanks, Sir Iason," Laron acknowledged his leader's courtesy as he regained his own composure with typical Elite aplomb, "and may I offer you any refreshments at this juncture?"
Iason crossed his long legs comfortably, tilting his head and appraising the Sapphire with his pale eyes. "Not at the moment, Laron. Thank you," he replied.
"As you wish, of course," Laron nodded urbanely. "If I may say... although it is always an honor to receive a visit from you, your Excellency, one does wonder – seeing as you were only here last night..." he trailed off cautiously.
Iason's rich mouth twitched ever so slightly, "... what is the purpose of my visit?"
"Well... yes, your Excellency."
"Ah," Iason's striking eyes flashed with momentary amusement, "I do apologize for arriving unannounced." He lifted a broad shoulder in a brief and oddly off-hand shrug, one pale brow lifting almost roguishly, "but, as my reason for visiting is not actually official business, I have to confess that I assumed a casual meeting would not be unwelcome."
Laron sat forward, intrigued and even somewhat warily amused by the Blondie's nearly whimsical manner. "And indeed it is not," he assured Iason firmly. "How may I be of assistance to you, your Excellency?"
Iason vented a deep and startlingly pleasant sounding chuckle, the sound alone catching Laron's focus. He would certainly not have described his current reaction to Iason's demeanor as 'uncomfortable', but he was very curious. The Sapphire had spent some considerable time in his leader's company the previous night during the handover; that much was true. But their interactions had been very much limited to professional matters.
Last night, Iason Mink had been every inch the consummate Elite leader that he was; tall and imposing in his almost glacial beauty, his pale eyes sharp and guarded... taking in every detail, giving away nothing. The man in front of Laron now was quite a different animal altogether. His deportment, while still composed, was quite clearly congenial and the warmth in those previously cool eyes certainly matched his manner.
Laron, who had always perceived his leader – admittedly from a distance – as remote and cold of character, had to wonder at what this change could actually mean.
His silent question was answered in the next breath as Iason sat forward a little as well, easing one elegant hand through his pale hair. "You may assist me, Laron," he said softly, "by accepting an invitation for both you and your Companion, Esra, to attend my Eos Tower residence for dinner tomorrow night."
Laron blinked. Of all the outcomes possible, he hadn't actually expected one so, well... agreeable.
"I would be delighted, Sir Iason," he replied with unfeigned pleasure. "I know Esra will enjoy that very much. He speaks very highly of Riki, I must tell you."
"Indeed?" Iason nodded sagely. "Well, I can assure you that Riki is quite taken with Esra in return, as is Raoul Am's companion, Katze. Sadly, I did not have much of an opportunity to get to know your mate during last night's function. I shall look forward to rectifying that oversight."
"Thank you, Sir Iason."
"Seven-thirty will be acceptable?" Iason asked him.
Laron nodded. "Perfectly fine."
"Very good." Rising to his feet Iason smoothly rounded the desk, extending his hand as Laron almost instinctively rose as well. Clasping the Sapphire's hand in a firm grip, Iason flashed a stunning smile. "I know that you were officially accepted into your secondment last night," he continued, "but please allow me the honor of personally welcoming you, Sir Laron, to the exclusive fraternity of Syndicate Leaders."
Shaking Iason's hand warmly, Laron bowed his head in acknowledgement. "I am deeply touched," he replied softly, "and I thank you, Sir Iason."
With a satisfied nod, Iason released his hand. "You are most welcome. Indeed, I have a strong inclination that you will prove to be very successful in this particular role."
"In all honesty, Sir Iason," Laron replied softly, his manner an odd mix of powerful determination and profound serenity, "I must say that I have never been better placed, either mentally or emotionally, to meet this challenge. With my mate at my side and my future lying resplendent before me, I am more resolved than ever to succeed at this."
Laron noted, even as he spoke, that the approval in Iason's eyes warmed even further.
"Excellent," his leader literally purred. He nodded with exquisite courtesy then, a silent signal that the interaction was about to shift into a farewell. "I shall leave you to your undoubtedly busy schedule, Laron." The Blondie stepped back a pace and adjusted his sash-coat, neatening it in preparation for leaving. "Until tomorrow night, then."
"Tomorrow night, Sir Iason."
With a final nod and a sweep of fine robes, Iason turned and left without further word.
Slowly resuming his seat Laron paused for a moment, pondering over the exchange that had just occurred between him and Iason Mink.
Imagine... The Sapphire shook his head, his deep blue eyes widening in something very close to amazement; a personal invitation to dinner from the leader of the Tanagura Syndicate himself.
How extraordinary.
Laron began to smile, reaching for his cell phone and speed dialing a most familiar number. As the line connected at the other end, Laron's smile bloomed into a rather dazzling grin. He sat back from his desk a bit, crossing his long legs and getting comfortable, preparing to spend a few renewing and enjoyable moments speaking with the one soul in the universe who had never doubted him, not even once. And who, incidentally, also had the strongest inclination that Laron Tak would be a rousing success.
"Esra?" he murmured a greeting to his mate, his eyes softening and his tone becoming positively self-satisfied. "Tell me, my dear-heart... do we have any social events scheduled in for tomorrow night..?"
The journey itself... – chapter 26 << >> The journey itself... – chapter 28